Thief
by ruji
Summary: Tezuka is a theif. Everything Fuji had, he stole it. Yet, Fuji still has everything. [Fuji's POV. TezukaFuji. Oneshot.]


This drabble was inspired by one of my RP logs with my dearest Mitsu. Reviews are much appreciated. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me.

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**Thief**

You stole my breath away -the very first day you stepped into my life- with your intense gaze, your unfailing confidence, and that aura of strength and power. It wasn't your tennis. No, it wasn't. Your tennis was impressive, I was most sure of that. But it wasn't what impressed me the most. It was the hard work behind it, and the passion you had for it.

I never felt so suffocated. Every time our gazes crossed pathways, I find myself holding my breath. I don't even know why that happens, it just does. As if it was a reflex action. Yet I longed to stand by your side, to look deeper into those sharp hazel eyes than anyone else could. Even if it would mean suffocating myself.

You stole my motivation away -that fateful day we had to part ways- as I watched you walk down that road, further and further away from me. All of a sudden, tennis lost its meaning. Ironic how we used to dread running laps, but yet how I longed to be ordered to run after you walked out of my life.

Tennis just wasn't fun anymore. I still played half-heartedly most of the time. But on those occasions when I actually wanted to try putting in my heart and soul to play a match, I realized I couldn't. I just couldn't. Subsequently, I quit tennis. The racket still sat in the same corner of my room, but it meant nothing more.

Months passed, years flew by. I found my little piece of heaven in photography, I even became a professional. The tennis racket still sat in the same corner of my room, only to show up on rare occasions when Yuuta would come into my room and say, _"Oi Aniki. Let's have a game."_

Then one day, you showed up again. In a quaint little café, fate brought us together once more. The feelings that I had painstakingly put away through the years, they all came back to me. Bit by bit, like a little crack in a dam. Then the crack got bigger, and everything soon burst through, flooding my mind and drowning my barely beating heart. I felt that suffocation building up in my lungs again. How it hurt, yet how excited I was to feel it again.

You stole my first kiss away -that evening we met- you grabbed me by the waist and crushed your lips on to mine. I was stunned. Never had I been so close to you. Never had I seen you behave in such an instinct-driven manner. Never had I felt your passion this strongly before. I stood rooted to the ground even after you pulled away and let go of me, my heart pounding wildly in my chest.

We had dinner together, at an Italian restaurant. The place was nice, the food was good, the ambience was romantic. Far too romantic, in fact. With only candles lighting up the entire place, and no one else but us… it felt as if the place was a lover's sanctuary, exclusively for us. It felt like a date. But it wasn't, was it? We were not lovers, were we? No it wasn't, and we weren't. We would be, I wished in the deepest corner of my heart. On impulse, I kissed you.

You took me home, to your home. A home that you didn't see as a home, but merely a place you could name your "home". You were mostly too busy with work to go home. Your office, or even your car, was more of a home as compared to that beautiful house you called a home. It was a beautiful place, really. It would have captured any photographer's eye and heart, as it captured mine.

You stole my heart away -right there on the couch in your living room- as you came close to me and softly asked me to be your loved one. I was stunned once more. I had never seen your eyes hold such a gentle gaze. I had never heard your voice so soft and warm. I had never felt your breath tickle my cheek. I smiled and agreed to your request. I had literally no choice at all, my heart fluttered and surrendered to your thieving ways.

And so we became, what we longed to be in the deepest of our hearts since years ago, lovers. We spent so much time together, as if trying to make up for the time we lost after we parted ways. Many more kisses, tender caresses, heartfelt confessions… love was sweet. And soon, the time had come. What I had expected and even desired, though irony to put it in such a way.

You stole my body away -with a simple statement, _"Fuji, I'm going to steal the last thing from you tonight."_- with passionate kisses that blew my mind and intimate touches that made me tingle with need. You made love to me, made me moan and writhe under your irresistible body. You stole the very last thing I had. You had stolen everything from me.

I curled up against you in afterglow, your strong arms wrapped around me. I was grateful for that because I needed that. I felt so vulnerable, so empty. If you hadn't been holding me, I would have gotten paranoid and hysterical. You simply held me close, and pressed your lips lightly against my forehead, whispering words of love. And in my emptiness I felt loved, cherished and safe. I then realized, I was complete.

Yes, you had stolen everything from me. But now as you stole the last thing I had, I got everything back. The jigsaw was now completely pieced together as you stole that last piece of the puzzle from me. And by being part of you, I was now complete, with a little something extra. **You.**

-end-


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